Newspaper Page Text
VOLUME VIII.
Church Directory.
METHODlST.—Douglasville—First, third
*nd fifth Sundays.
Salt Springs—Second Sunday, ar d Saturday
before.
Midway—Fourth Sunday, and Saturday be,
fore. W. R. FJOTE, Pastor.
•
BAFTiBT-iPouglaeville, first and fourth Sun
days. Rev. A. B. Vaughn, pastor.
Masonic.
Douglasville Lodge, No. 289, F. A. M.,meets
« on Saturday night before the first and third
Sundays in each month. J. R. Carter, W. M.,
W. J. Camp, Secy.
County Directory.
Ordinary—H. T. Cooper.
Clerk—B. N. Dorsett.
Sheriff—Henry Ward.
Deputy Sheriff—Ct. M. Souter.
Tax Receiver—E. H. Camp.
Tax Collector—W. A. Sayer.
Treasurer—Samuel Shannon,
Surveyor—John M. Huey.
Coroner—F. M. Mitchell.
SUPERIOR COURT.
Meets on third Mondays in January and Jnly
*nd holds two weeks.
Judge—Hon. Samson W. Harris.
t!k)L Genl. —Hon. Harry M. Reid.
Clerk—B. N. Dorsett.
Sheriff—Henry Ward.
COUNTY COURT.
Meets in quarterly session on fourth Mon
days in February, May, August and November
and holds until all the eases on the docket are
called. In monthly session it meets on fourth
Mondays in each month,
Judge—Hon. It A. Massey.
Sol. Gent—Hon. W. T. Roberta.
Bailiff—D. W. Johns.
ordinary’s court
Meets for ordinary purposes on first Monday,
and for county purposes on first Tuesday in
each month.
Judge—Hon. H. T. Cooper.
JUSTICES COURTS.
730th Dist. G, M. meets first Thursday in each
month. J. I. Feely, J. P., W. IL Cash, N. P..
D. W. Johns and W. K. Hunt, L. C.
786th Dist. G. M., meets second Saturday
A. R. Bomar, J. P., B. A. Arnold, N. P.. 8. C.
Yeager, L. C. ’
784th Dist. G. M. meets fourth Saturday.
Franklin Carver, J. P., C. B. Baggett, N. P.
J. 0. James and M. S. Gore, L. Cs.
1259th Dist. (J. M. meets third Saturday. T.
M. Hamilton. J.P., M. L. Yates, N. P., 8. W.
Biggers L.C., S. J. Jourdan, L. C.
1260th Dist.. G. M. meeta third Saturday. N.
W. Camp, J. P., W. 8. .Hudson, N. P., J. A
Hill, L. C. ’
12715 t Diet. G. M. meets first Saturdav. 0.
C. Clinton, J. P. Alberry Hembree, K. I’.
1272nd Dist. G. M. meets fourth Friday.
Geo. W, Smith, J. P., 0. J. Robinson, N. I’.,
1273rd Dist. 0. M. meets third Friday. Thou.
White, J. P., A. J. Bowen, N. P., W. J. Harbin.
L. C.
Professional Cards.
RO BERT A. M ASSE Y,
ATTORNEY AT LAW
DOUGLASVILLE, GA.
(Office in front room, Dorsett's Building. >
Will practice anywhere except, in the Count;
Court of DougUrs county.
W. £ JAMES
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
Will practice in all the courts, Slate tn
Federal. Office on Court House Square,
DOUGLASVILLE, GA.
WM. I. ROBERTS?
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
DOUGLASVILLE, OA.
Will practice in all the Courts. All lega
nusineM will receive prompt attention. Office
in Court House.
cj. r>. camp.
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
DOUGLASVILLE, GA.
Will practice m all the courts. Al* tarineas
sntrusted to him will receive prompt attention,
B. G. GRIGGS,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
DOU3LASVILLE, GA.
Will practice in all the aourte, State and
Federal.
JOHN IW, EDGE, !
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
DOUGLASVILLE, GA.
Will practice in all the courts, and promptly
attend to all bnainewt entrusted to hisoarc.
J S JAKES,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
DOUGLASVILLE, GA.
Wdl nia.tio in tne courts of Dongia**,
Campbell. Carroll, I*anldhig, Col4>. Fillton and
adjoining counties. I'lompi atteuikm given
Soali business.
j. h. McLarty,
attorney at law.
DOUGLASVILLE QA.
Will practice m all the c-urt a both State and
Federal, tidivx'tiona a apecially.
JOHN V. EDGE?
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
DOUGLASVILLE, OA
JOB PRINTING
NEATLY DONE
AT THE “STAR" OFFICE!
,-~r "l ' ~
wlt i> MS IcsLf ‘,w
’lelal llk aw w 17 MjO
The Impossible.
Man cannot draw w ater from an empty well,
Nor trace the stories that gossips tell,
Nor gather the sounds of a pealing belt
Man never can stop the billow's roar,
Nor change the winds till they blow no more,
Nor drive true love from a maiden’s door.
Man cannot o'ertake a fleeting lie,
Change his wheat to a field of rye,
Nor call back years that have long gone by.
Man cannot a cruel word recall,
Fetter a thought, be it great or smalt
Nor honey extract from a drop of gaR.
Man never can bribe old Father Time,
Gain the peak that he cannot climb,
Nor trust the hand that hath done a crime.
Man never can backward turn the tide,
Nor count the stars that are scattered wide,
Nor find in a fool a trusty guide.
Man cannot reap fruit from worthless seed,
Rely for strength on a broken reed,
Nor gain a heart he hath caused to bleed.
Man never con hope true peace to win,
Pleasure without and joy within,
Living a thoughtless life of sin.
JIM CHURCHILL.
It was dusty, hot and badly ventilated
indoors, although out of doors a cold rain
was beating cheerlessly against the car
windows, and the damp, raw wind was
as fresh as the brown hills and ice rev
ered marshes it blew over. It was an ac
commodation train on one of the trunk
lines in the central part of this State and
therefore a better condition of affairs
could not have been expected. No mat
ter how cold the weather or wet, it is al
ways hot and dusty on an accommoda
tion train. The colder and wetter it is
outside, the hotter and dustier inside,
and the more unpleasant it is the slower
the train bumps over the rails, the more
frequent the stops it makes, the larger
the crowd of on-coming passengers, and
the greater the throng of goers-out. At
Palatine Bridge the train came to another
stop. On the uncovered platform of the
railway station there were gathered a few
shivering would-be-passengers, eager to
barter one condition of discomfort for
another almost equally as disagreeable
and impatient at the delay, for whoever
knew an accommodation train to be on
time? Among them were a man dressed
like a fanner and two little girls—the el
der less than six years old and the young
er her junior a year or so—with fresh,
smiling, dimpled faces and sweet, prat
tling voices, which even the rumbling of
the train, the sticky dust, the plashing
rain, the smoke, the heat and the crowd
ed load of ill-tempered passengers could
not cloud or silence. They came into
the ear where I sat. The farmer and the
younger child found a vacant seat in
front, of me. I moved nearer the aisle to
let the other climb over the parcels by
my side next to the window, out of
which she gazed into the rain and
through the blinding clouds of smoke
which covered the soggy fields with an
intensity of delight that was so unaffect
ed that the train ought to have felt flat
tered, had it had sense enough to feel
anything.
“I dess love to ride on the cars, don’t
you?” she asked after the train had re
sumed its tiresome journey.
“Sometimes,” 1 replied.
“I do all the time. My papa is aa en
gineer.”
“Then you ride a good deal?” I ven
tured.
“Not very much,” she answered with
a little sigh of -discontent; “not as much
as I want to. Since Mamma went away,
Papa won’t let me and Grandma always
cries when I go on the cars.”
“Ah?”
“Didn’t you know that? You know’
iny Papa?” she remarked with such con
fidence in my knowledge that I was al
most ashamed to say that I didn't:
“Don't bother the gentleman,” inter
rupted the farmer as he turned half
around in his seat and faced me. “She
is a big talker.
“She doesn't bother me in the least.” I
made haste to say. So, reassured, the
little maiden turned her face to the win
dow, and in a moment was too much ab
sorbed in the fleeting panorama to re
member anytliing but the passing pleas
ure.
"Iler father was an engineer on this
road—Jim Churchill. Ever heard of
him?” continued the farmer after a short
pause. ‘’No. AV ell, I ain't surprised.
Yet he deservial to be known morc'n lots
of men that gets their names before the
public, Jim and I was schoolboys to
gether up conntry near Palmyra. We
was both raised in the same township,
and we used to think w hen we was men
we’d be partners, and so we was—almost.
Jim was bigger’n me, stronger and a year
or so older. I was always a runt among
the boys, and if it hadn't been for Jim
I'd probably been licknl every day in my
life. . But Jim wouldn' stand nothing of
that sort. He wm as brave as a giant
and he never allowed anyone to be im
posed upon while he could prevent it,
TO NONE-CHARITY TO ALL.
DOUGLASVILLE, GEORGIA, TUESDAY JUNE 1, 1886-
and when the boys learned that he meant
what he said they let me aloue. So we
grew’ up together, like two brothers, lie
loved me because 1 was weaker then he
’ was, just as a father loves a baity, and I
just worshipped him. I’d a’ died for
him. stranger, just as easy —if he’d only
said the word. You ought to have knpw
ed Jim Churchill. One Jim Churchill
would make up for a half a million such
fellows as me and the ordinary run of
folks.
“When we were about sixteen years
w r e had our first trouble. She w’tisfhc
prettiest girl in the county, and she w’as
just as sweet and good as she was pretty.
She was the dominie’s daughter, and
when she came to school Jim and I both
set our caps for her at the same time.
Funny, stranger, how a pretty girl wull
come between old friends. Two men
can live like twins a whole lifetime, but
just let a pretty woman come in and they
will fight like brothers-in-law over a will.
When little Phillis came to school, and
Jim and I ran races to ask to sec her
home or to fetch her to singing school or
Sunday night meeting, then, stranger, we
knowed the first trouble of our lives.
Somehow we grew cold like, and before
that year was ended wc did not speak.
One night Jim and I met at her house.
1 was seventeen then, and Jim was over
eighteen and as big as a num. He had a
beard, almost, and he was as handsome
as a picture. He didn’t know that I was
there, or I don’t think he’d a called. I
had been there about an hour, yid just
before the knocker sounded Phillis had
told me the old story we all of us l?ve to
hear so well, and I felt as happy and
light-hearted as a lark. When Jim came
in and saw r us sitting in the little old par
lor he seemed to know just what had
happened like a flash. For a moment I
thought he’d do something he’d regret
sometime. His face got so black and
sullen and his eyes got ugly. Phillusaw
it, too, soon as I did.
“ ‘Jim,’ said she, her voice trembling
just a little. ‘Jim, I want you and Mob
to shake hands ami be friends.’
“Then I got up and held out my hand;
though, to tell the truth, I felt sort of
nervous.
“ ‘Jim,’ she went on, her voice get
ting stronger and her face getting sweet
er and sweeter. ‘I want you to love Bob
again just as you used to, because-—be
cause—l love him so much. Won’t you,
Jim? for—my sake.’
“I wish you could have seen Jim just
then, stranger. I never saw the good in
a man fight so hard with the bad and
tome out ahead in all my life before or
since and never expect to again. He
stood there by the epen window just as
if he'd been carved out of stone. 1 didn’t
know whether he’d heard what she Raid
or not, he was so still. Then just as I
was about to take back my hand Jim
took it in both of his so hard I almost
dropped. Then he threw his arms
around my neck, kissed me on my lips,
flopped down on a chair, stranger, and
cried like a baby. Phillis, the little
woman, cried too, and there we all were
with our arms around each other crying
like women and not any of us knowing
what we was crying about.
“That settled things with us. After
that we was brothers just like we used to
be. Well, it’s a long story, and I guess
you won’t care to hear it all. So I’ll cut
it short. When I was twenty-one I was
married. Jim was our best man, and my
oldest boy is named James Churchill
Brown. About a year or so later Jim
married. She was a cripple and su[>-
ported her mother doing sewing. But
if she had been a royal princess Jim
couldn't have treated her any better.
After he got ou the road he built her a ;
little house near us and there they lived !
and there these little tots came into the
world. About a year ago a little boy !
came to their cottage, but he only stayed 1
a day or so, and when he went back to j
where he came from he took the little :
mother back too, and these little ones
were left behind. Jim never lost heart
though, but the blow nearly killed him.
lie stood up under it a& brave as a lion,
and you'd never have known from his
face, except that he didn't smile the way
he used to, that he knew what sorrow
was. One evening last week—it was an
off-day with Jim—he and Phillis was out |
walking by the creek that runs through I
my meadow by the red barn. It was >
just dusk and my little boy was running j
on ahead playing in the snow when they ;
came to the railroad crossing. Just as ;
they got there Jim heard a whistle. It
wasn't time for the regular train, so he
wasn't watching for danger. It was a
special and it was coming ’round the
curve like lightning. My little Jim was
playing on the culvert. Phillis heard the
whistle, she saw the boy on the track,
and heard the rattle of the engine just as
if it was a dream. Then she gave a little
scream and fell down on the road in a
faint—”
“East Creek!” called out the conduct
or, as the train stopped again in the
storm.
“Oh! Uncle Bob!” cried the little
maiden by my side. “Look out the
window. There’s Aunt Phillis and cous
in Jim and there’s grandpa and grandma
and what a funny long black wagon that
is! Look! Look!” she continued as the
farmer gathered together his charges and
started for the door. “They are putting
a black box in the wagon, and Aunt
Phillis is crying awful hard.”
“Yes,” replied the farmer as he brush
ed away a tear from his eyes. “Yes,
that’s Jim Churchill, stranger, in that
box.”— Benjamin Northrop in Graphic.
A London Pnblic School.
One of the miserable districts of Lon
don is to be found in Somers Town.
Blocks of “Improved Dwellings” and
sundry measures taken by the parish au
thorities have recently reformed it to a
considerable extent. Yet it remains a
haunt of poverty. The petty tradesman
is the aristocrat of the neighborhood.
I The police in its streets are all picked
■ men. The swells who go “slumming”
I through it, according to the fashion of
■ the season, are looked at by the patient
eyed poor with the same wonderment
that butterflies in its alleys would create.
In the midst of this sordid district
stands a handsome new Board School.
It is as large as an average fortress of an
cient times. Its bounding walls contain
a space of two acres. Within the intri
cacies of the play-grounds and covered
courts and ground-floor passages the visit
or becomes bewildered. It reaches a
height of many stories. And here, every
day 2,200 poor children are being endow
ed with the inestimable benefit of a
sound education. It is indeed quite a
tovyn in itself, filled with Lil*iputians,
v, ho can exhibit at times remarkable free
dom of speech and action. Their parents
chicifly conic under the following catego
ries: laborers, 355; cabmen, 97; coalmen,
93; charwomen, 78; joiners, 50; porters,
45; painters, 44; carmen, 44; stokers, 32;
bricklayers, 31; stokers, 25; stable
men, 25; blacksmiths, 25; factory men,
28; needle-women, 22; shoemakers, 32;
slaughtermen, 21; railway servants, 21;
costermongers, i9;Uakbrs, 17; milkmen,
16; tailors, 10. Among the others are
sweeps, potmen, cat's-meat vendor ,
hucksters, drovers, barmaids, barbers,
plumbers, sailors, mangle-women, etc.,
etc. The social state of the people send
ing children to this school may be indi
cated by the single fact that, out of their
number, 415 families inhabit only one
room apiece, and 1,030 inhabit homes of
two rooms. The families number six in
dividuals ou the average.
Theodore Thomas.
Theodore Thomas, whose name sounds
so Anglo-Suxouish, is a native of Hanov
er, the son of a noted musician, and be
longs to a numerous musical family. He
was a child prodigy, and astonished
everybody by his violin playing when he
was only 7 veal's old. At Bhe gave a
public concert at the capital, and
highly praised by the most carefid critics.
Not long after he was brought to this
country. His whole life has been devot
ed to the cause of music, and his devo
tion has borne good and abundant fruit.
He has unquestionably done more for
musical culture and advancement in the
United States than any 20 men who
might be named. The orchestra which
he carefully selected and has drilled for
years is not only the best, by all odds, in
the country, but is not surpassed by any
in Europe. Conqietont critics who at
tended the Bayreuth festivals during
Wagner's life, where everything was as
nearly complete as possible, declare that
the famous orchestra was not a whit bet
ter than, and some think it was not so
good as, the orchestra of Theodore
Thomas. He has made New York one of
the great musical centres of the world.
new co:/ y value he
introduces to us as early as practicable.
Enthusiastic .admirers of music who have
spent years in Germany are often sur
prised to hear in New York compositions
they have never heard in any of its capi
tals.—Aeiz Feri Commercial Advert iter.
What She Feared.
“I understand, Mr. Softley,” said 3liss
Muffin, “that you play the violin.”
“Well, yes, Miss Muffin, I—a—-try to
play the violin.”
“That's what I heard. You see, Mr.
Softley, we are going to have a little
sociable at our house next Thursday
evening. I wanted to invite you, but
ma—she is so very anxious not to give
anybody any trouble—ma was afraid
that”
“Oh, no trouble at all, I assure you,
Miss Muffin,” eagerly interposed Softley.
“It will be a positive pleasure to me to
bring my violin.”
“Ye-e-s—that's what ma was afraid
ot”— Traveller't Gazette.
STRUCK BY A WHALE.
A Little Schooner Gets in the
Way of a Monster
j Arid 1 is Overturned and Dragged Out of
Sight by the Leviathan.
“What do I know about whales, sharks,
squids, and other animals of the sea?”
echoed Capt. Carter of the brig Mary
Jane. “Wait till I light my pipe and
I’ll reel you off a yarn which I can bring
witnesses to swear to.”
“In 1879,’’ he continued, after getting
his pipe alight, “I owned a small schoon
er called the Fly, and I had her in the shell
trade. I used to gather them on Santa
Rosa Island, and from thence along the
coast clear around to Cape St. Blas. My
crew was composed of a negro, who act
ed as mate, and two boys. Being a wee
bit of a craft, and dodging among the
islands most of the time, we did not
need much of a crew nor any great
amount of shamanship. It was in August
of the year I have named that one after
noon we were about midway between
Santa Rosa and the cape, and about
fifteen miles off the land. Wc
were headed for the cape, and mak
ing about three knots an hour, the wind
; being light and the weather fine. One
1 of the boys was at the wheel, the other
asleep, and the mate was splicing a rope.
I stood on the port bow r looking at a
i broken spar floating a few hundred feet
j off. There was no sea on, and the Fly
■ was on an even keel. Suddenly, and
without a breath of warning, the
i schooner was lifted clear of the water
with a great crash and flung on her beam
I ends. It so happened that no one -was
thrown overlward, but before we could
exactly understand what had happened
the craft turned turtle. ‘ *
“The first thing I knowed I was on
her bottom, with one of the boys along
side o’ me. I had a small keg o’ powder 1
i in the cabin, and iny first thought was
1 that we were blowm up. 1 didn't cling
! to this idea inore'n a minute, however;
< for, as I got the water out o’ my eyes, I
caught sight of a great black mass along
i side, and in a second more made out the
great squ.ire head of a whale. The wafer
; jist there was at least ninety feut deep,
but it had been roiled up until it looked
j like a mud hole for an acre or two around
us. I got it through my wool pretty soon |
that we had been struck by a whale, :
and that the old leviathan of the deep I
was alongside. In fact, I could i
have touched his nose with a twenty-foot >
pole. •
“Now’, one of the singular things is
that we hadn't seen the spout of a whale
that afternoon. Indeed, it is rare for
one to run in so nigh that coast. Os
coorse, there might have been a whale ,
sporting around and we not sec him, but
the chances are t/lat that fellow had made !
a run of several miles under water, i
When he came Up to blow he foumd the '
Fly in his way, and he threw her off his j
noseas a bull would toss a gadfly. The '
blow must have dazed him, however, for '
it was a good three minutes before he!
moved a fin. I could look intooneof his |
eyes, and by and by I noticed it take on j
a malicious twinkle, and he gave his ]
flukes a flirt and backed off about a hun- i
dreel feet. He was mad. He thought ’
he had been attacked by some enemy, I
and he wanted revenge.
“Well, sir, that consarned critter was
corning for us. Being light, the Fly
was high ami dry out of water, and
offered a pretty fair target. He uttered
a snort, swung his flukes about, and came
head on, striking the schooner fair amid- j
ships. He knocked the two of us twenty
feet into the water, and he made a hole
in her side through which you could have
flung a water butt. The blow broke her i
all up, but as the water poured in she
only settled dowm until her bottom was a
wash. When the boy and I got our eyes
clear we noticed that the yawl, nigh full ‘
of water, was floating a little way off, !
arid we made for it. While I hung on to I
the bow he climbed in and bailed her out, j
and in about ten minutes we were afloat i
again- Meanwhile the whale had his ■
nose agin the upset schooner, as if smell- I
ing of her. She was between us and him, ;
and it was a lucky thing for us. We ,
hadn't so much as a splinter to paddle .
with, and the breeze seemed to have died '
away about the time the Fly went over.
“By and by old leviathan backed off
for another round. This time he went I
further, and he came faster, but as the |
schooner had settled down he slid up on ! J
her bottom until his weight settled her I '
down and let him pass over. As he
floundered over she rolled heavily to star- ’
board and his flukes were no sooner clear '
of her than she righted herself. Tn so !
doing both masts snapped off, and a tan- 1
glr of cordage covered the water. The 1
Fly hadn’t ballast enough to sink her, ; 1
but she was down until her rail was al- ; 1
most awash. The yawl was too small 1
NUMBER 17.
potatoes for the whale, or he reekaM&t
on finishing the schooner first. He
, quiet for a short V me and made another!
dash at her. He was kicking up such an
sea that we couldn’t exactly make oi«t
p how 1 he got fast in the wreckage /but fe'-f.
he got. There was such a tangle of ropes?,
that he probably drew some of them i«tso
his mouth. Then the fun came to a e-E
--max. We had drifted 'away until wcIB
clear of him, and apprehending no ira- »
mediate danger. What a commotion
that old chap kicked up when he touwil
himself toggled! He rapped the water
with his flukes until the sound conld be
heard a mile away, and he rolled his huge
bulk to starboard and port until he rausedE
a sea heavy enough for a ten-knot breea&e..
By and by he seemed to get rattled, sua«£
off he went, towing wreckage, selioom?f
and all. He made the most tremendon
efforts to get clear, but as this was im
possible, he headed right out to sea, aiu
at length was lost to sight. About nmi
night that night we were picked up by »
j coaster. The mate and one of the Ixrpr
i w ere clean gone, probably drowned undm
the Fly as she went over, but the otlu*®
boy—now’ a man—is living in New Or
leans, and can back every statement®
have made.”— New York Sun.
- Ancient Writing Material.
When the Prophet Ezekiel was cost
manded to write about the city of Jeru
salem, he was compelled to write his ac
count on smooth tiles, and we find frag®-
ruents of such tiles to this day. Th*
heaps of broken pots and crockery of ads
sorts, which arc now so abundant in all
Eastern towns, prove that Lite of smooth
stone or tiles were constantly used fit*
this purpose. The Island of
on the Nile, is said to have furnished
more than a hundred such specimens-
One of these is a soldier’s leave of ab
sence, scribbled on a fragment of an old
: vase. How little those scribes and oc
! countants imagined the interest with
; which their descendants would one day
treasure their rough notes! Still quaint
, er were the writing materials of those an-
I cient Arabs w’ho, before the time of
: Mohammed, used to carve their annate
|on the shoulder-blades of sheep. Tb»:
l “sheep-chronicles” were strung together,,
’ and thus preserved. After awhile .'heep**
i bones were replaced by sheep’s skin, and
the manufacture of parchment "Vrtet
I brought to such perfection as to’ placoit
j among the refinements of art. Wc hear
! of vellums that w'ere tinted yellow, other*
i white. Others were dyed of a rich jwar
pie; and the writing thereoaTlwWM*'
icn ink, with gold borders a”nd many--
colored decorations, These pntciot®.
manuscripts were anointed with the oil of
cedar to preserve them from moths. We
hear of one such in which the name off
1 Mohammed is adorned with garlarxteat
tulips and carnations painted in vivecl ’
; colors. Still more precious was the silky
paper of the Persians, powdered with
: gold and silver dust, whoreon were
painted rare illuminations; while the.
, book was perfumed with atter of roses-or
i essence of sandalwood. Os the denowudl
i io. writing materials, one may form scu ! w
fuint notion from the vast manuscript
libraries of which records have been jwe
■ served, as having been collected by thr
| Caliphs both of the East and the
i the former in Bagdad, the latter in
j dahisia, where there were eighty great
public libraries, besides that vast one aft-
Cordova. We also hear of private IQme»-
rics, such as that of a physician who-de
clined an invitation from the Sultan at
Bokhara, liecause the carriage of kite
books would have required 400 c-amefau
The Eight-Hoar System.
“Papa,” said the daughter of a
employer of labor, “are you in favor cd
the eight-hour system?”
“Well, daughter,” he answered, “n®-
dcr certain circumstances, I am.
“Oh, I’m so glad,” she rapturously at.
I claimed.
“Why, my dear, why are you so inte®
ested?”
“Because, papa, George has been only
staying four hours every evening, and be
told me last night if you favored tAx
eight-hour system he needn’t go bonus
nearly so early. You dear old papa, I’o#
so glad you arc in favor of it,” and rfw
threw her soft white arms about his neck
and choked off all explanations.— IFaate
ington Critic.
Another Core for Stammeriag.
A writer in the Popular Science New
gives the following as a method forth»
cure of stammering; “Go into a room
where you will be quiet and alow , get
some book that will interest but not ex
cite you, sit down and and read two
hours aloud to yourself, keeping the
teeth closed. Do the same tiring evety
two or three days or once a week if very
tiresome, always taking care to react
slowly and distinctly, moving the
but not the teeth.”